Thirsty?
by Writersblock42
Summary: The air conditioning is broken and Bulma is hot and thirsty. Then she meets someone in the kitchen who gives her a whole other kind of thirst.


**A/N: I don't own DBZ or the characters, that honour belongs to Akira Toriyama. I use British English spelling.**

**It's summer in my part of the world and the heat made me feel inspired. Here is something to warm all you Northern Hemispherians up!**

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The fan whirred and creaked as it oscillated, doing little more than push the warm air around the bedroom. Bulma groaned and kicked her legs out of her sheets, which stuck uncomfortably to her skin. What she would give for the air conditioner to be working…

Unfortunately even the world's richest women couldn't ship in a part from Finland in under twelve hours. Groaning, Bulma resigned herself to a night of no sleep and climbed out of bed. Pulling on a light wrap, she blearily made her way to the kitchen, hoping a cool glass of water would help.

She entered Capsule Corp's expansive kitchen with a yawn, wondering if a bowl of strawberry ice cream would be a better idea. Bulma had padded across the cool tiles and made it to the kitchen island, which was kitted out with cupboards above and below as well as a state of the art baker's oven, before realising that the fridge was already open.

Vegeta stood bathed in the fridge's fluorescent light, particles of sweat glistening on his topless body. One hand gripped the fridge door while the other one held a half full bottle of apple mango juice, which he was chugging back like it was the elixir of life.

Bulma's mouth went dry. Well, dryer than it already was.

Vegeta finished the bottle, slamming it down on the bench beside him before swinging the fridge door closed.

The lack of light from the fridge would have blanketed them in darkness had it not been for the full moon glowing through the window. Bulma stared at the shadowy Vegeta as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

When he turned, his dark gaze landed on her. "Thirsty?" he asked, cocking a smirk that quirked the left side of his mouth.

Bulma licked her own lips in response as her houseguest took a step closer towards her. He only wore a towel, she realised with a jolt of surprise - how had that _not_ been her first observation? It was loosely wrapped around his waist and slung dangerously low. All it would take was one tug…

Her fingers itched to reach out.

She barely managed a nod in a belated response to his question and he took another step forward, then another, that evil smile still creasing his face. He prowled towards her, stopping mere inches away, close enough for Bulma to smell a faint scent of bergamot radiating from his body. She then realised that the sheen of moisture covering his taut muscles was not from sweat, but from a recent shower. Clearly he'd been clever enough to shower in order to cool off from the oppressive summer heat.

Slowly, Vegeta reached an arm up over her, his muscles rippling with the movement. A shiver ran through her, and she fought the urge not to pounce on the man.

He opened the cupboard above her head and retrieved a glass before placing it in her hand, his rough fingers brushing hers.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Bulma jerked her hand away from his. She would _not_ give in. She would not…

Vegeta pulled away and sauntered towards the door, his movements like that of a panther - lithe, sleek, and emanating power.

Fuck it, who was she kidding? She'd given in the moment she'd seen him.

"Wait." Her voice rang out, echoing slightly in the empty kitchen.

Vegeta paused, then turned around, his stare dark and knowing.

Bulma placed the glass on the bench, her gaze never leaving his. She swallowed hard, then untied her wrap before dropping it to the ground. The silk pooled at her feet, and even though the room was warm she felt cold and exposed in her tiny negligee.

Only a slight widening of his eyes gave away that she had affected him and for a moment she thought he was going to walk out and leave her standing there.

Then he was a blur of movement, scooping her up against his body and hoisting her butt onto the island's bench top. Bulma gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist, suppressing a moan as he pressed his lips to that sensitive spot on her neck.

"I thought you said we were a one time thing." His voice rumbled in her ear, making the fine hairs on her arms stand up. His hot breath brushed her skin and Bulma fought the urge to grind against him, desperate for more. Vegeta had paused in his ministrations though, one hand resting at the top of his towel.

It was a question, she realised, his way of making sure this was what she wanted.

How… oddly thoughtful of him.

Bulma didn't have to think twice. "I changed my mind," she said firmly, before weaving her hands into his hair and lowering her mouth to his.

He tasted of apples and sin, and dammit if she didn't like the taste of both.

The towel dropped to the floor.


End file.
